The story so far: I was raised as a conservative Christian in the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod (LCMS), which, for me, was a near-constant experience of worry and guilt. It turns out that at least part of the reason why is the fact that I'm autistic.

How was it that, in my 40's, I finally realized this? It took help from my amazing therapist, a couple of read-throughs of Dr. Devon Price's Unmasking Autism, and a lot of introspection. Maybe sometime I'll tell more of that story, but for now, let's just say that here are some of the ways I've noticed that my brain is wired:

• I have a strong desire to obey authority figures, and I'm highly motivated to earn their praise.

• I have a strong desire to follow rules, and as long as I believe they're reasonable, it's very difficult for me to break them. 

• I rely on rules (either given to me by others or created myself) as a way to quickly make sense of what to do in a chaotic world and to help me act according to my values.

• If I have a plan to do something and the plan is disrupted, by default I will become upset and stressed out.

• I am highly attuned to logical arguments supported by evidence. If I believe a thing, and you provide me an argument and/or evidence that my belief is incorrect or harmful in some way, I literally cannot continue to hold that belief.

Plus a whole host of other smaller things: Finding a place for objects and keeping them organized is very satisfying. Finding new ways to optimize the routines I've had for years is thrilling. I cook almost exclusively using recipes, in which I have converted almost all the volumetric measurements to use mass (in grams) instead, so that I can easily document experiments and reproduce my results. And have I mentioned how much I love spreadsheets?

Being raised in the LCMS offered me a plethora of authorities (God, the Bible, the LCMS, my pastor, my parents, etc.) and a whole set of pre-made rules to tell me exactly how to live, combined with lots of rewards for my compliance (explicit praise, the knowledge that I am making these authority figures that I love happy and proud, community membership and care, assurance of Heaven after death, etc.) as well as clear consequences for my non-compliance (reprimands, the knowledge that I am making these authority figures that I love sad and disappointed, estrangement, eternal torment, etc.).

Is it any wonder that my young, neurodivergent brain was striving as hard as it could to follow all those rules, earn praise, and avoid negative consequences, even at the cost of my own emotional well-being? I was just doing what came naturally to me in a system that rewarded me for it.

Not only that, but I also had no reason to believe there was anything unusual or wrong with the challenging feelings I struggled with. On the contrary, I heard plenty of messages about how difficult being Christian is in the modern world, how hard it is to follow all of God's commandments, and yet how important it is that we keep repenting and trying to do better. As far as I could tell, being Lutheran was supposed to be full of guilt and worry! My feelings made perfect sense given my experiences and my brain chemistry.

So there I was, a kid who was soaking up love and community and praise while at the same time 1) living under a constant weight of worry and guilt and 2) believing that this experience was perfectly normal. During junior high school, I underwent the two-year process to become confirmed in the church, a full, "adult" member of the church who was able to take communion with other LCMS members. Like many tweens going through religious education, I didn't really love having to study and memorize a lot of things or having to go to confirmation class every week. But I did it anyway, and I continued to work as hard as I could on being the best Christian that I could, because I had a tremendous amount of faith. 

…Until suddenly, I didn't. 

Next time, we'll visit the night when everything changed. Unlike me, you won't have to spend the next twenty-some-odd years wondering how the heck I managed to lose my lifelong Lutheran faith in a matter of hours.

Thanks again for listening and for joining me on my journey!